“Yes!”
My lips press against his, and he sighs into me, pulling me into his arms as he deepens it. Our tongues dance, and I get lost in him.
I love everything about this man. Even at my lowest, he made me feel cared for. I knew I was safe to tell him my secrets, and he’ll never use them against me. He’d never try to hurt me with them or betray me.
“Get a room!” Rooster calls out.
Pulling back, Tucker winks at me. “I’d love nothing more.”
I smile at him. “I think that can be arranged.”
“Okay, see you later,” Tucker says, tossing a few bills on the bar and carrying me out over his shoulder.
Laughing, I smack his butt until he sets me down on my feet. The moment my feet touch the ground, he cups my face and kisses me.
All silliness disappears, and passion takes its place. I run my fingers through his hair, and he slides his hands down my back to cup my ass, pulling me against the bulge in his jeans.
“You can say no,” he murmurs into my ear. “You can always say no, Phoebe.”
And I know I can. Tucker’s a world of contradictions. Hard but soft. Angry but happy. Dark but light. Closed off but open. Only for me, it seems.
“I don’t want to say no,” I murmur, sliding my hands up under his shirt. “I want you, Tucker.”
He pants and rests his forehead against mine. “I should’ve waited to do this until we got home. It’s going to be a painful ride.”
Glancing at the dark alleyway, I smirk. “Let’s take care of that.”
“What?”
I pull him into the darkness and blindly unbutton his jeans. He gasps but doesn’t stop me as I tug them down and free him.
“Take me,” I whisper. “Like our first time.”
“No, I don’t—”
“I want to,” I pant, sliding my jeans and panties down, too. “Hard and fast, Tucker. Then you can make love to me at home. In bed.”
He groans and finds my entrance, easing into me. I gasp and lean forward to lean against the wall, bending over as he guides me down.
“Fuck, Phoebe, you’re so damn perfect.”
No one’s ever said that about me before, but I’ll take the compliment, moaning as he takes me in the darkness right outside the bar.
I’m screwing my boyfriend in public. Never thought those words would ever describe me, but here I am. And here we are.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Pacino
Phoebe’s confession still buzzes within me, and I bounce between sympathy and anger. I want to hurt someone. Get justice for my girl. Do something to make it right.
But it’s not exactly something I can do when the asshole’s already dead.
With each passing day, Phoebe seems lighter. Brighter. She’s almost back to her old self, and I have to admit how relieved I am. I was scared she wasn’t going to pull herself from the darkness.
And having me take her in the dark alley beside the Seven Crows was fucking amazing. Not to mention what we did when we got home.
My girl seems mostly back, and I couldn’t ask for more.
